Extra Credit
by bethsometimes
Summary: So if you've read Mad Love you'll know it's inferred that Harley basically slept her way to good grades at college. It's also pretty much common knowledge that Jonathan Crane was teaching psychology at Gotham University during that time and so would have been one of her professors... Yeah. Jumping on the scaryquinn wagon for a long drabble about Harleen & Jonathan way back when!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and my mind. DC owns everything else.**

 **Authors Note: So if you've read Mad Love its inferred (but is pretty common knowledge) that Harley basically slept her way to good grades whilst at college. It's also pretty much common knowledge that Jonathan Crane was still teaching psychology at Gotham University during that time and so would have been one of her professors... Yeah. Just putting it out there.**

 **Anyway they seem to get on both in the Arkham games (Asylum/Knight) & in BTAS so I thought id jump on what I believe is called the scaryquinn band wagon and write this rather long drabble. But seriously imagine if they did and now they both have to pretend like hell they didn't out of fear Joker will find out and literally kill them. I like thinking everyone secretly figured it out anyway, or at least Ivy has. And riddler. Of course.**

"You all forget. I knew her long before any of you."

That morning Harley had emerged at breakfast looking considerably black and blue, her left eye swollen and sunken into her head. It had been their anniversary the day before and in celebration he had carved a 'J' into her chest, above her heart. She thought it was the sweetest, most romantic thing he had ever done. He thought it was hilarious. Everyone else just looked on in profound horror until Ivy had piped up and started screaming at the clown. The couple had been removed, Joker taken to isolation and Harley was confined to her cell. The rouges had been talking amongst themselves about Harley, about how she was getting worse, wondering how she could let that monster abuse her. It was when they started suggesting she might have always been messed up that Crane had spoken up. Reminded everyone that he had in fact known her the longest. Longer than the doctors and Joker, longer than Ivy. He had been her friend for years, he had been her teacher before that. He sighed, wishing he hadn't said anything. Nobody had responded verbally but all eyes turned to him, evaluating his sad manor. He held his head in his right hand, his left twirling his breakfast around with his fork.

"You're all so quick to jump to her defense once she's sobbing uncontrollably in her cell on her own, reflecting on how truly awful it is, how devastated you all are for her. But none of you care, not really. Perhaps maybe you do Pamela" he said turning to face Ivy. "But I suspect you may have your own selfish agenda with her... I think you enjoy having her to manipulate as much as he does-" "Do not compare me to the clown!" She retorted, cutting him off before he could finish. She stood before him, shaking slightly with rage. "She's my best friend? I love her!"

"But do you?" He intercepted, sounding both sarcastic and angry, frowning in irritation. She looked at him dumbfounded, his eyes were glassy and that surprised her. He put down his fork and stared at her intensely. "Do you love her? Really? Do you even know her past that stupid harlequin costume?" He trailed off dropping his head, returning to face the table and uncomfortably rubbing the spot between his eyes. As if he was trying to stop himself crying. Ivy had to admit, seeing him look so utterly defeated over Harley's little punch up was beginning to irritate her. She'd dealt with this for years, been Harley's shoulder to cry on since the beginning and now here he was getting so choked up over _her_ friend. "So she was a student of yours Crane? Big deal. I didn't realize you could become so close with somebody just by marking their midterms?" Her tone was venom and at that he stood up to leave. "You know nothing" he spat at her on his way out. She didn't. None of them did.

Once back in his cell, he relieved his frustration by violently tearing his bookcase off the wall. After that he collapsed on his cot and staring up at the ceiling, began telling himself that he had finally stopped caring about her. A rampant tapping on glass distracted his thoughts and reluctantly he looked up to see Harley pressed against the glass of her cell, opposite his. She looked concerned, her eyes searching his from across the small walkway. She breathed onto the glass and wrote 'U OK PROF?' in the condensation. He sighed deeply before smiling back at her sweetly and nodding. Her mouth twisted into a grin but her eyes still looked at him sadly, she was worried about him. He approached the glass of his own cell and stood thinking for a while before he breathed on it. He wrote 'MISS' before shaking his head and rubbing it away, leaning his hand on the glass. She watched him sigh, rubbing his eyes before looking up at her. She pressed her own hand up to the glass and mouthed 'Im sorry'. For a short while they did nothing and finally she breathed onto the glass again and drew a smiling face with glasses on. He couldn't help but feel a little bit better. She was okay, she knew what she was doing. He just missed her.

...XO...

They had arranged to meet outside a coffee shop in midtown Gotham. Odd he thought, considering the university campus was absolutely littered with them. But she had insisted that this was her favorite haunt. They made the very best coffee with extra cream and marshmallows and besides, she could sit outside and smoke without anybody seeing them together. She had been quite the chain smoker then, always seemed so wound up, edgy... like a tight spring or a bomb counting down. And maybe the smoking did help her nerves, considering how much she had weighing on her mind, the crazy amount of pressure she was under to be perfect at everything, he wasn't at all surprised. She had told him in his office once about her mother's judgmental nature. Her mother had expected her to be an olympian, really her only memories of childhood was of her being pushed to be better, s

summers spent training, competitions she won and lost. A rebellion at some point was natural. So when she started to flunk gymnastics and started burying her nose in psychology books, her mother had called her bluff, ensuring she studied just as hard as she had trained. And now here she was, majoring in a subject she didn't really understand and only sparked an interest in to spite her mother. The only thing that shut her up was the constant flow of perfect grades, and so she continued to pretend and prove herself. And after bribing and blackmailing her smarter peers for answer sheets began to seem too risky, she decided to jump the gun and start seducing her professors. She was after all young, beautiful and manipulative. She had never had a serious relationship, sure she'd slept with boys she'd met at gym training, but that had always seemed more like another way to get back at her mother for something. She didn't really get the attention she wanted, she certainly never got much affection from her siblings or her mother and her dad had been in Blackgate for as long as she could remember. So for her, sleeping with boys she didn't really care about filled some little void and sleeping with sad old men in exchange for good grades felt no different. If anything it felt better? At least she got what she wanted out of it and managed to make them feel a little better about themselves. She was determined, you had to hand it to her.

Anyway, he was meeting her to go over her last paper. He normally didn't give his students feedback in person, but he had long stopped denying to himself he had a huge crush on her. And besides she liked Crane. Actually liked him. Because he was different to the other professors. He was not a sad, desperate old man who had long given up on their subject, fallen out of love with their boring old wives and who lived in a massive house filled with their own books they had written. He did however surround himself with his work.

That was the difference, he lived for this, he had a purpose, a goal. He wanted something. Like she did. He was still passionate, whats more he was rebellious. Everyone knew his teaching upset the university staff. Rumors spread about his unconventional methods, students of his that had gone mad. People thought he was strange, scary even but she saw more than that. She didn't quite know what, but there was more to him. On the other hand he was not terrible looking, his clothing and haircut gave him the appearance of a middle aged man, but in reality he was not much older than her. And he was always kind, very shy. She liked that. She was very honest and he was very passive, she was fun and he was always so serious, he was reliable and she was someone who was desperately trying to hold it together. Needless to say they were actually great friends and often had talks in his office after lectures and had been known to lunch together sometimes. She kept waiting for him to ask, but he never did. It was becoming harder to keep the routine she had already. Besides, she didn't make a habit of sleeping with nice guys.

When he arrived she was already outside with a well used ash tray in front of her. She was sat with her legs on the chair, a book resting against her knees, taking sips from her coffee cup whilst gazing down at the pages intensely. She looked up to see him approaching and rushed to put her things away. Taking out a thermos and pouring the hot liquid into an empty cup on his side of the small table, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "They make great coffee here but the tea's not all that, so I thought id bring my own for ya". He sat and she pushed the cup towards him. He thanked her and brought out his papers from his briefcase, handing across a copy of her essay heavily scribbled over with red ink. She took it and frowned before sighing heavily "that bad huh?" she remarked flicking through the pages. "Well my dear, I actually feel the premiss of your argument was-" She interrupted him by raising her hand, signaling for him to wait. She put down the paper and reached into her bag taking out a cigarette and a lighter, she lit it and inhaled deeply, relaxing back into the chair. "Okay, now hit me with it" He smiled at her, she really was quite funny. He continued on, working through each of his points and in places she nodded and asked questions. She got another coffee and he had two cups of tea and she gradually worked her way through the rest of her cigarette pack before producing another and eventually they stopped talking about her paper and moved on to just talking. About her, about her family, about her dad in Blackgate, about how her she thought her mother took interest in her successes and nothing else and how she felt that meant she didn't really love her. She even asked about him, and when he rambled on about his latest Fear research and how the university once again didn't agree with his proposition and how he had to work around that in order to do his work, she actually looked interested. They talked for hours, she made him laugh and he complimented her and in all this time he felt himself becoming slowly, slowly more taken by her. At which point he decided it best to leave. However, it being very late by this point and away from Campus he thought it best to take her home. It was barely walkable after all, and though he thought she might protest, her dorm being out of his way, she happily excepted. "So professa what happens if some thug emerges from the shadows and decides to rob us, ya gonna protect me?" she teased as they walked through the streets. He looked at her and couldn't help but smile, proudly and wide, "Oh I can be very scary when I want to be." She drew closer to him, believing every word he said. She really did like Crane, an awful, awful lot. And for a minute she considered the thought that she'd been waiting for him to ask her for a while, but he never did. And he never would. But she had been waiting all the same, maybe because she wanted him to.

They arrived outside the door to her building, she turned on her heels and faced him, he thought, to thank him. He was quite surprised when she took his hand and gazed up at him pleadingly. "Wont you stay?" she asked quite innocently and for a second he was lost for words. "Im on the ground floor, thats my room there" she said pointing to the window closest to them. "It makes it very easy for sneaking people in and out." All this time she was smiling up at him and still she had his hand gripped in hers and still he didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth, but he didn't quite know how to word what was on his mind, but it didn't matter she knew what he was thinking anyway. "Im not gonna sleep with you for grades Jonathan" she answered him meekly. Her eyes didn't look harsh as he expected them to, but rather guilty, as if she regretted that her actions made him think that. He looked down at her seriously, moving closer to her, he moved his hand up to gently touch her face. "Then why?" and why indeed? She was beautiful and captivating, there was something about her that made her unlike everyone else. In much the same way she saw him, he saw her. There was something about her that pushed against the norm. Sleeping with all her professors seemed to be just one way she refused to conform, she did it because why shouldn't she? When everyone else slaved away over books till they went crazy she didn't have to. She didn't really have to do anything she didn't want to. So why was she here, asking him to stay with her. "Because you're a nice guy. A really, really nice guy. And I don't make a habit of sleepin' with nice guys." She decided that tonight however, she wanted to start. He responded with the most sincere smile, cupping her face in his palm. He knew he should say no, he knew it wasn't right. He knew she was acting on impulse and that she'd regret it or worse, she'd just see him like all the others. He knew he should say no. And yet, he later remarked to himself, that second to the screams of pure fear, Harleen's repeated cries of 'yes' were quite possibly the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and my mind. DC owns everything else.**

 **Authors Note: So I accidentally got into it and just finished writing this at 3:38am and obviously my brain is like jelly but I had to finish this somehow, so apologies.**

His eyes opened to see sunlight shining in through the thin, cheap material of the curtains. The room felt humid and smokey. The desk below the window still had candles burning on it and the window was closed. That explained it. Throughout the night the candles had burned right down and wax dripped off the desk and onto the stack of books on the stool below. His books. He had lent them to her weeks ago. Normally he would have been furious, he would have fussed uncontrollably at the mindless destruction of such beautiful editions. But slowly the memories of last night flooded back into his mind, like the sun shining in through the curtains and suddenly it all felt trivial in comparison. Dust particles floated in front of his eyes, he felt like he was daydreaming. He was still in her room. In the light of day he saw it properly. There were clothes spilling out of the open draws of her dresser, her black, round frame glasses were laying on a messy pile of papers on the floor. A sheer pink robe hung on the bathroom door and beyond that, he could see the contents of her makeup bag in the sink. He imagined her sleeping in before getting ready in a hurry. He thought about all the times she had been late for his lectures, imagined her throwing open her closet and dresser, he imagined her looking for her glasses desperately. He wanted to stay there, taking in the room. He feared, believe it or not, that glancing down would reveal everything to be just another hallucination and all this brightness and colour would fade into dark. But he could hear her breathing softly next to him. He shifted slightly and he could feel her delicate fingers slide over his chest. His bare chest. Slowly daring his eyes to look down at her, he was met with a nest of soft blonde curls. Her hair was a mess, he ever so slightly raised his hand to smooth it down, moving a strand away to better see her face. He relaxed slightly when he saw she was still sleeping. She looked the same, and yet somehow a million times more beautiful, even with her makeup smudged from sleep. Mascara panda eyes, speckles of black on her cheeks, like shed been crying. But she was definitely smiling. Curled up against him dreamily with her red finger polished hand lazily drifting down his ribs to his waist where it stayed. She sighed happily, her eyelids began to flutter at which point he decided to shut his.

As she stirred, panic began to flood in, for last night had been a insane rush of emotion, an overload of intensity that neither of them had been able to stop. But now... things were slower and he anticipated she wouldn't still feel the- his thoughts were interrupted when he felt her head rise. He held his breath, though he didn't know why. She was looking up at him and he was glad he couldn't see her reaction. He imagined her grimacing, the look of horror when she realized. He pictured her face twisting and he waited to hear her to sigh deeply and sadly before getting up. He was instead, surprised and utterly elated to feel her hand tighten around his side. He felt her relax beside him, her head lowering, she shifted, cuddling in closer to him. He felt her run her nose slowly over his chest, her warm breaths traveling lightly over his skin. She learned in, planting a small light kiss below his collarbone. It was almost too much. He opened his eyes to see her smiling, tucking her hair behind her ears. She bit her lip shyly before moving a shaky hand up to wipe under her eyes. In turn he moved his own arm around her, although rather cautiously. That kiss though, it reassured him and he let his hand naturally move towards her face. He let it stray there, his fingers running down her cheek as she gazed up at him. Her smile was somewhat devious, he could see she was dying to speak.

"Morning Professa". Her smile was dazzling and he beamed back at her and laughed. He leaned over her, retrieving his glasses from her nightstand. He lay back down, putting his arm around her, she relaxing into his chest. She was comfortable with him being here, in her bed, with her. He smiled, staring up at the ceiling whilst stoking her shoulder. "So last night had betta earned me a top A..." that stopped him. He froze up, his face falling as repulsion began to swim in. She'd slept with him for grades after all. She sensed his sudden change and pulled herself up, leaning over him she folded one arm over his chest, raising the other to pull his head down to face her. Her fingers cupping his chin, she looked at him with a seriousness that unnerved him. "Im joking Jonny." And she was, he saw how her eyes, big cool blue pools gleamed sweetly at him. She kissed him gently and he couldn't help but smile back at her nervously. She could see his mind working and she sighed disappointingly, she knew what everyone said and she did herself no favors.

She couldn't blame him. After all he'd heard the rumors. Students whispered how she'd been caught sneaking out of offices late at night, her old doormats confirming how she never studied, never touched a textbook. She was late to lectures, ignored deadlines and yet her grades were consistently great. The running joke being that she stayed top of all her classes by getting on top of her professors. And then here she was, curled up in his arms, now entwining her hand with his and planting small kisses all over his throat...

"Jonathan... Jonathan?"

He was sat in Dr Jonson's office, across from her. She was staring at him with a look of confusion and irritation, twirling a pen around on a blank sheet of paper in her notebook. "I believe I asked you to give me an example of a pleasant memory. One without fear. You've said nothing for the last 15 minutes? Can you really not think of one?" He sighed. She was a terrible doctor really. He still felt flushed from his daydream however and hoped his face didn't at all betray him. "No my dear, I'm afraid I cant." She wrote something down on her pad and after glancing at her watch decided to end the session there.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and my mind. DC owns everything else.

Authors Note: Continued writing this whilst I was on holiday over christmas, I had the Dark Knight trilogy on my phone and so felt pretty inspired to plough on through it! Hope you guys enjoy it!

He reminded himself daily that this Harley Quinn was repulsively different to the Harley he had held in his arms. She lay across the Jokers lap in the rec room, he prodded at the still healing and frankly yellowing carving on her chest as she stared up at him dreamily. "You know, if he keeps touching it, it'll get infected. By the looks of it it probably already is." It was no secret that Ivy hated Joker and comments like this were normal, just like Harley's dumb responses. "Ahh Red its not so bad? Ain'tcha got some sort of plant juice I can rub into it?" Ivy narrowed her eyes at her before turning her face back to the television. Crane sat playing chess with Jervis across the room but secretly stole glances at Harley as she squealed and twisted in delight as Joker started to tickle her. At least her bruises had healed. But he couldn't take his eyes of the nasty looking wound near her heart and he wondered if she had screamed? If she had struggled when he took the knife to her. The thought troubled him deeply. "You deaf professor!?" the Jokers loud, harsh voice broke him out of his trance and Crane looked up, realizing he'd been staring at her chest the whole time. "Sorry... I.. I was just thinking that you really should get that looked at Harley.. It looks-" "And I said that if I catch you looking at the goods again I'll show you something real scary! You hear me nerd!?" He started to laugh manically to himself and Crane noticed as Harley smiled uncomfortably, coiling in on herself, clutching onto his arm. When he finished she kissed his cheek, Crane signed and nodded sadly. He stood and walked back to his cell with Harley looking on after him. Poor girl, he thought. She would never be anything except that ridiculous clown's whore, his damaged property. Perhaps she was happier this way? She had picked herself a 'prince', after all.

...XO...

They never had sex in his office. That was the main difference. That and they tried to remain good friends without letting any messy emotions get in the way. They still went for lunch often and walked to classes together, still chatted in his office for hours like before. But secretly she expected him to mark her up and secretly he expected her to stop sleeping around altogether. Deadlines were fast approaching, final essays due and the looming pressure had Harleen's in a frenzy of secret meetings for meaningless sex in offices and classrooms. She found herself wondering if blowing this many guys could cause any long term problems with her jaw and in amongst the chaos her 'friendship' with Jonathan had been squished down and crumbled beneath piles of red inked papers and her round spectacles. He still wanted her all the same. As much as he hated admitting to himself he would still smile awkwardly when she stole kisses from him when nobody was looking, He still came to her room to see her night after night and seeing her undress in the harsh light of her small room made him incredibly nervous, even shy. Lately however he remarked on how terrible she looked. She stumbled around like a drunk and her sweet blue eyes were rimmed with heavy dark circles. He wanted to ask her how taking the easy route could be so hard but he didn't really like talking about it. Besides she was angry with him for marking her down on her last paper despite the fact she'd spent the last three weeks basically practicing her latest floor routine between his hips. But when that thought crept into her mind she scolded herself, remembering that this was different and he wasn't giving out A's like the others. Instead he attempted to tutor her, helping her with research and desperately trying to persuade her to actually try before she simply lie down. He wanted her to succeed. Above all he just wanted them to work out somehow. He really believed they fit together in some sad, irresponsible way. That they could somehow save each other? The nerd and the whore.. how pitiful it sounded even to him. He still wanted her. But he couldn't put his work on hold, he knew that his toxin was too important to neglect and she had even leant a hand. She took an active interest in his experiments, though she didn't know his subjects weren't always volunteers. Through polite conversations at bars and Frat parties she had found out and relayed to him the biggest fears of nearly everyone in football team as well as everyone on her gym squad. He was planning on paying one or two of them a visit. He valued football players as lowlife bullies and after all it would help her chances of standing out if she had less competition in gym.

However things started to lean towards awkward when she came over to his for dinner one night. He made her a gorgeous three course meal, complete with a few bottles of vintage wine. They had laughed, listened to music and afterwards they went to bed and Crane had told her she was beautiful 13 times. She'd been so drunk on wine she couldn't really feel anything he was doing and when he had kissed her she hadn't responded with the same amount of passion. But she had still counted all the same. The next morning she had left before he woke up.

Things were made worse when she had snuck around the back of the psychology building late one night to have a quicky with one of her professors. They had chosen a spot that was outside an extremely old part of the building that sat unused, right by the fire exit. What nobody knew was Crane had set up a secret lab underneath the building, accessible by the room closest to the fire exit. And on that same night he had himself snuck around the back of the building and found her bent over with her skirt pushed up her back, legs parted and her hands holding onto her ankles. She still had her red shoes on. Behind her the old professor pushed in and out of her with the same ferocity of a dying animal. She looked less than amused and frankly, totally out of it. He guessed she'd need to be drunk or high to go through with this most evenings.

Disgust is an emotion very similar to fear and it even evokes similar responses in the body. The repulsive urge to cringe and run away, crying, tensing, sudden sweats, a sense of shock, either a speeding up of breathing or the stopping it altogether. Crane stood frozen for all of a second looking on in absolutely horror before diving behind a wall, fighting the urge to be sick or scream. He wasn't really sure which. All he knew was that he felt dirty. But he told himself if she had seen him she would have died and been so sorry and besides it wasn't her fault. She didn't see any other way, she wasn't cut out for this. And besides he wasn't... that. They never did that. He knew she didn't love him, not even close but she cared for him enough to never include him amongst her list of meaningless means to ends. They had finished and left by the time he collected himself and in his lab he continued to work on his toxin. He was unable to concentrate very long before his thoughts wandered to how he could somehow help her. Humanity really was a nasty vile thing. This world shunned people like him because he wasn't popular or athletic but intelligent, awkward. He had suffered for it. And there was Harley who was athletic and was popular and was beautiful, even smart... and yet she suffered too. Later, back in his office he found himself unconsciously remarking all her essays extremely high. Afterwards he made the appropriate calls and wrote her an impeccable recommendation to a colleague of his at Arkham Asylum. His theory was if he could get her a place on the Asylum's program with Strange after graduation then at least he could still see her. He imagined her graduating with honors, what would she do after that? Go work at Arkham and be some second rate shrink to the criminally insane? That might make her happy. He was sure she'd make it work for her. And if he helped her maybe she'd realize she wouldn't have to keep sleeping her way through life? Maybe she could actually love him and they could start a life together.

But what about the scarecrow? Crane glanced over to the raggedy burlap mask in his open briefcase. If he started a life with Harley what would happen to his work? How could he get his revenge on humanity, who would be there to show Gotham its worst fears? His toxin was his greatest creation, with it he could harvest fear and control it, reflect it back at others... destroy everyone. He couldn't see how a life with Harley could fit into that. She wasn't someone who was a victim of society per say... She exposed it's flaws and weaknesses and used them to her advantage, she used others to get what she wanted. But only because she too saw that normality was flawed, her life had been a series of struggles and disappointments. Why shouldn't she have her fun? Why couldn't they both? Maybe she would see things the same way he did and she struck him as someone who wasn't scared of anything, except being the same as everyone else.

And she couldn't be more different.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and my mind. DC owns everything else.

Authors Note: So I tried to finish this off the best way I could!

They had just got married in a small, old church in the Bahamas. They wanted something private, away from everyone that knew them. She wore a short, white lace dress with her hair flowing down her back. He wore a shirt, no tie with a suit jacket and she had laughed saying how she had never seen him looking so casual. He was normally much more formal and stiff, she had told him his suits aged him incredibly. Now he looked so different, like any other attractive, young man getting married in a hot country. More than anything she noted how happy he looked, how very carefree. "Put your glasses back on! You don't look like you and I wanna make sure I just married the right guy." He chuckled and obeyed, removing them from his jacket pocket and putting them on before talking her free hand in his. Her other clutched onto a small bouquet of pink roses. "That's betta!" She smiled and squeezed his hand. They were now walking down a long street towards their hotel. People and cars moved by them and on both sides of the street were old, disheveled looking houses surrounded by tropical greenery.

They had chosen to elope two days after he proposed. At the airport they jumped on the first plane with spare seats and checked into the honeymoon suite of a beautiful hotel on the beach. Harley had graduated with full honors, her grades had been near perfect. Everyone knew why but it didn't bother her. She had been grateful for Jonathan's help getting her an internship at Arkham and had been assisting Strange for the last few months. The building was crazy scary and Strange himself was a total crackpot but she had also been allowed to take a few patients into her care. Julian Day was one of her favorites, she wrote him notes on certain dates and genuinely enjoyed helping him. She had become good friends with Poison Ivy and the two talked often. The job was really exciting and despite the danger she saw the potential to make some serious money out of the more extreme cases. After months of pleading she'd been given permission to treat the Joker and was in the middle of planning a session. Her plan was to write a tell all book, if he didn't kill her first of course. After graduation, Crane had asked her to move into his apartment with him and she had naturally accepted. Now things were working out for her they had gotten closer. She had even asked Dr Leeland on her first day if them being a couple would effect her work at Arkham, Leeland actually looked surprised. She, like everyone else could not understand why a beautiful young lady wanted anything to do with the crazy professor. Needless to say he started visiting the Asylum more and working at the university less. The college board had threatened an investigation when it became apparent they were dating but by this point she had already graduated and if everyone was honest they thought they deserved each other. The nerd and the whore was now the biggest joke on campus. And so they had been happy together, extremely so. They both enjoyed literature and had long intellectual discussions at dinner and in bed. The first time she told him she loved him had been after an incident at Arkham. The joker had threatened to detonate a bomb he had hidden in the Asylum and the building was put on lockdown whilst the GCPD and Batman tore the place apart trying to find it in time. Batman had stopped Gordon's plan for a mass evacuation saying Joker could easily slip out with the crowd. She phoned him from her office in tears, she was so terrified and repeatedly told him that whatever happened, he had to know she was in love with him. He had tried his best to calm her, but he couldn't deny that the edge of fear in her voice excited him. Of course everything had been fine and she had rushed home to him. They spent the whole night in each others arms.

Crane had finished and perfected his fear toxin. The one he had started creating with the goal of bringing Gotham to its knees and punishing what he thought was a worthless, weak and vile human kind. The formula was strong enough to cause the victim to visualize their darkest fears, tormenting them before their painful death. But in his research he had also learned that a similar version of the toxin had the ability to cure a person of fear. If produced on a mass scale it was very possible he had the ability to vaccinate the entire world and rid everyone

of fear. Effectively it could make a person feel invincible. Alternatively it could free mankind, allowing them to expand their potentials. Needless to say once he published his findings, the people who had once laughed at him were astounded. He was suddenly very popular, invited to galas and encouraged to lecture at universities across the country. Harley was immensely proud, disgustingly so. And when he walked into a room with her on his arm in tight red dresses and black ball gowns he too felt a sense of pride despite the way people whispered about them. There were rumors he might be nominated for a Nobel Prize and everyone believed them, he had honestly made the biggest discovery in science for a long time. He received many phone calls in the weeks that followed. Some that Harley didn't know about and she imagined there were many people who wanted to get their hands on his toxin and its potential. He proposed to her whilst they were sitting outside her favorite coffee shop, the one they had visited often whilst she was still a student. She ordered a vanilla latte with extra cream and marshmallows and he brought his own thermos of tea. But when he asked her to pour him a cup, she unscrewed the lid and all they fell into the mug he placed in front of her was a diamond ring. It was very modest, a plain silver band with a single stone. A large enough rock mind and she was thrilled. He got down on one knee and she started screaming "Yes!" before he even asked her. In the two days before they left she made sure everyone in the Asylum knew, most of the Drs and the inmates that liked her were very happy for her. Some made comments, sneered and it had been responses like this that had made them decide to elope. Her mother hadn't said anything when she told her on the phone. Just that she'd let her father know. Before leaving she had a meeting with Leeland and informed her she no longer wanted the Joker as a patient. Somebody else could risk their life with that demented clown, she wanted to start a future with the man she loved.

"Harleen Frances Crane... who'da thought! But then you were always my favorite professa... even if you were a big nerd!" He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Well I'm glad I'm the one you chose. Lord knows you had plenty to pick from!" She pinched his side and they started to laugh. "It was only you Jonny, you know that." He stopped suddenly and span her around to face him. He kissed her deeply and she moaned happily into his mouth. "I've actually got a confession to make my dear..." he started, she threw up her arms mockingly. "I knew it! You're already married just my luck!" He smiled and took her hands and squeezed them. He sighed and stared at the floor choosing his words. "Jonny what is it... you're worrying me now!" He met her eyes shyly and spoke carefully. "I sold the toxin formula." That shocked her. "What! Jonathan that was your baby! Who on earth would you sell it to!" "The US army believe it or not... Harl calm down, the formula I gave them is nowhere near as potent as it could be. It shouldn't be lethal." She looked at him with a mixture of sadness and concern. "But.. But.. What about the Nobel prize? I thought you were considering the fear vaccine?" "I intended to create the toxin and use it as a bio weapon. It has the potential to kill thousands... Millions. And truthfully that's what I intended to do. It's only right that it's being used somewhat to its full potential." She stroked his arm with her fingers, she had stopped being scared by his ravings once she realized he valued their life together a little more than any glory he'd find in slaughter. "So what do they need it for?" "Well I believe they intend to use it as a more ethical torture device? One where they won't actually inflict any physical pain? After all, a terrified man is more likely to talk... stripped away of any bravado or pride. Other than that I believe they'll want to harness the toxins potential as a weapon. Hence why I stripped back the formula before selling it to them." "I didn't think you cared about money Professa scary" she teased. "Well no, it was never about that dear... But things change." "What changed?" He took the flowers from get hands and lay them on the ground, taking her hands before raising her left to his lips. "I asked you to marry me and you said yes." She beamed at him and moved closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lovingly. He moved from her mouth to her cheek before pressing his lips against her ear. "I thought you deserved the best life I could possibly give you. That's why I sold the formula for 12.6 billion dollars." She gasped and her knees buckled. She fell into his arms and he smiled into her hair, holding her up before cupping her chin and turning her head to face him. She looked flushed, her eyes glassy with tears. But she was smiling, mouth open dumbfounded. "Yeah it turns out the government were pretty desperate to endure I didn't sell to anyone else... Or use it myself. Of course." He smiled wickedly at her before pressing his forehead against hers. "Before I met you the world was a very dark and scary place. All my life I've been made to feel utterly worthless, I was shunned and mocked, I believed nobody would ever love me. And then there was you. You made me feel like life had a purpose again, that I could experience something more satisfying than hatred or revenge... I hated everyone until I met you." She was really crying now, clutching into his arms with her small fingers. "You told me you hated fairytales?" He chuckled. "Harleen this couldn't be further from a fairy tale! You are quite possibly Gotham's biggest harlot and I'm responsible for creating a bio weapon that could kill millions!" They were both laughing, she wiped under her eyes and started fiddling with her wedding ring. "Anyway I thought yI'd tell you after we got married to make sure you weren't with me for my money!" She looked up at him with a naughty smile and bit her lip. He smoothed her hair out of her face and leaned in to kiss her again. "I'm pregnant" she whispered when his lips brushed hers and he drew back surprised. "What? Really!" He looked at her utterly elated, she nodded and he drew her close and kissed her. "I wanted to tell you after the wedding so you couldn't run away." He smiled, wiping at his own eyes before returning to embrace her. "Scary isn't it" she whispered, "to have absolutely everything... It makes me worry something has to go wrong." "My dear, I think it would be much scarier, to live in a world without fear."

Everything suddenly went black. In the distance he could hear noises that resembled voices, panicked voices. As they got closer he opened his eyes to find himself strapped to a chair and hooked up to a machine in one of Arkham's therapy rooms with his friend, Jervis Tech standing beside him hurriedly pressing buttons on said machine. He sighed deeply. Ripping his arm out of the loose restraint of the chair and removing the hat from his head, placing it on the floor before releasing his other hand. "I didn't think it'd be so realistic" he said mournfully. Jervis kneeled before him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry Jonathan, I tried to warn you... the world the mind creates for us can feel every bit as real as this one." Crane nodded, resting his own hand onto of Jervis's. "I can tell you did your research Hatty." "Well, based on our conversations I simply followed events as they naturally progressed? Obviously her meeting Joker so early was the key exchange that changed what I predicted would have followed. So after removing that I just worked on probability. With a little bit of your imagination. You saw the world both as it could have been... But also the world you wanted to see." Jonathan sighed again, raising his hand to run his temple firmly. Jervis shook his shoulder before encouragingly slapping his back. "Cheer up my friend. At the very least we can say we have traveled through the looking glass and seen wonderland... As painful as it might be upon our return at least we made the journey?" He bent down and retrieved the hat before handing it to Crane. "I'm afraid I could not prolong the experience. Too much chance and error you see?" He stood and walked to the door "My dear Jonathan why don't I get us two cups of tea and we can return to our game of chess from earlier?" Crane looked up at him and smiled, though his eyes still looked sad. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you Jervis." Once alone he continued to spin the hat in his fingers and stare at the floor thinking. He wondered how much of what he had just seen was the influence of his own imagination and how much was an accurate representation of what could have been.

The end


End file.
